Breathless
by KneeDeepinInk
Summary: Back to pre-romance. Another take on how it may have begun in Vegas; rated M for safety
1. Chapter 1

**Another story bouncing around in my head. Kind of goes back to pre-CSI romance. I do not own CSI; I just like to write about it whenever the mood strikes**

* * *

There was the curb again. Did anyone really even know he had this spot?

No; probably not. It isn't like anyone ever asked him or anyone really cared. Even if they had, would he have told them?

Looking down into the bottle he decided, no, he probably wouldn't

So he sat. For what must have been the hundredth time against a curb on a dead end street in the middle of nowhere. Well, not really nowhere; Vegas couldn't really be considered nowhere but it felt like nowhere. And no one ever came down this road anymore any way. It was as deserted and barren as the man who found so much comfort in it

He tipped the bottle back, letting the once cool liquid slide down his throat. He grimaced as he looked at the bottle. It was much better cold. And really, he didn't understand what the hell he was doing here sitting on a curb with a bottle of cheap scotch to begin with. It was very much unlike him. Truth be told, he was utterly, completely against his normal behavior

But, really, he hadn't been feeling quite normal since she came to town so why try to start again now? Everything he had known seemed to be turned around, his words never came out right and he couldn't form a logical sentence in her presence if he tried.

_Shit_

For his many years in existence he had never felt more inept than he had that day; had never, ever experienced such complete and utter helplessness and vulnerability.

Ever

But then again, for his many years in existence, he had never really loved someone; not like this. Not like her.

Ever

He had watched, panic struck, as the knife cut into her skin. Had frozen in place as his eyes locked with hers, had felt ice bolts of terror surging through his body. And in that moment the realization that he loved her, that he needed her, that he wanted her became as excruciatingly painful as the thought of watching her die.

He held the bottle up, looking through it at the streetlight beyond and briefly thought about chucking it across the road before dropping it back down between his knees.

Today he had almost lost everything he loved; the _only_ thing he loved

And the sad thing was, she didn't even know. The very one person who could leave him speechless and dumbstruck, sweaty in the palms and scared to take a breath, didn't even know how he felt.

And he couldn't tell her, could he?

No. Because after everything and after that day, she had left with someone else and he sat alone because as she had told him once before, he really was far too late.

* * *

"What the hell's up with you?"

_Catherine. Shit_

He looked up at her over the rim of his glasses, barely letting out a grunt as he looked back down at the scribbles on the notepad before him

She came in, uninvited, and plopped across from his desk. "Are you…sick?"

Again he glanced at her "No" he responded curtly

She jutted her chin out "Okaaay….so…what?"

He sighed in frustration "Can't you see I'm busy, Catherine?"

"Whoah…" She laughed sarcastically, holding her hands out towards him as if to ward off an advancing herd "..you _are _cranky." She stood up in a huff "Whenever you're done being _busy_.." she enunciated the word, using her fingers to make the quotation marks in the air she knew he hated "…we have assignments and I thought—"

His glare made her stop mid-sentence "Tell the team to wait for me, Catherine and I'll be there in a few minutes"

"Right" She said as she headed towards the door, calling over her shoulder: "Drink some coffee and pop a Tylenol or something….do us all a favor."

He waited until she was gone to remove his glasses and drop them on the desk before him, bringing his fingers up to massage his temples. It was a thumper and it was his own damn fault, and now he had to face the day…and his team…and…

_Sara_

And try and pretend that everything was okay

* * *

She could tell as soon as he walked into the room that something was wrong. He just didn't look _right_. And, knowing him the way that she did despite her best attempts not to, she knew it was a thumper

His eyes glanced her way and she knew that they lingered a moment, a moment too long, on the red line along the right side of her neck. And she knew, again as well as she knew him, that he blamed himself.

He fumbled with assignments, squinting down at the sheet he held in his hands. She could see his hands trembling and wondered, for what must have been the hundredth time, if she could be the one to still them.

"I thought I gave you today off" He said to her, ignoring the others in the room as his eyes stayed firmly on the paper he held in his hands

"I thought I told you I didn't need it" She replied lightly

He looked up at her then, his eyes dancing to keep from looking into hers. He nodded as a form of dismissal, although they both knew the matter wasn't dismissed. He went about handing out assignments, ignoring the imploring bantering from Greg who would _'…love to get a day off...well, if Sara won't take it anyway'_

"That's some nasty scratch," Nick was saying to Sara as they filled their travel mugs with coffee "…good war wound"

She smiled slightly at him as she poured her cup "I'd rather not have gone into battle"

He leaned in, examining it "Not too deep…shouldn't leave a scar" He stood up straight again "Still, it looks pretty gnarly. You got lucky"

She bit her cheek "You know Nick, I really would rather not…discuss it…."

He smiled with a nod "Okay…." He draped an arm across her shoulder as they turned towards the door "Okay, man…still, I guess Grissom must be some kind of hero…"

She plucked her sunglasses on her face, the image of Grissom's terror-filled wide eyes flashing through her head "Must…"

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed. Trying to update more rapidly, but work is hectic. I do not own CSI; I like to borrow the characters on occasion, though. NOTE: Forgot to mention this in first chapter but this storyline takes place around "Committed"; doesn't follow the show timeline or plots other than that slight similarity**

* * *

The mother went to prison, which seemed to be too lenient a sentence in Sara's opinion. She should have been locked up in an asylum herself, force fed medication that caused double vision and left in a tiny room with no windows

At least in Sara's world, that is where she would have gone

She opened up the tiny bottle, shaking out one of the last little pills it contained. She wondered if she were addicted to them, just as she reminded herself to get a refill

She made her way to the refrigerator, downing the sleeping pill with a swallow of milk

'_Well, now at least my stomach's not empty' _She thought, noting the warning on the bottle calling for food with the medication. She briefly thought about pizza, she did have some left from when Nick was over. She stood and stared with the refrigerator door open, finally reaching in to grab a slice coated with cheese and grease.

Migrating to the living room, she bit off a piece of cold pizza while switching on the TV. Not too much to fall asleep to on an early Friday morning. Court TV, crime dramas, COPS. She frowned; she got enough of that at work. She finally settled on some show with the stars trying to recreate myths and sat the remote down before lying across the couch.

Her eyes began to grow heavy as the images on the screen split in two; the pills were working. Try as she might, the image of Grissom staring at her through the door and the way she shoved him aside to run away filled her mind. The last thing she thought of before not thinking of anything at all was how much she would have liked to have him hold her and wondering if he would have, even if she'd asked

* * *

"Man I really need to get laid"

His head popped up, eyebrows raised as he glanced at her. She looked over at him and laughed "And you don't?" She said

His mouth opened and he closed it, preferring not to get into this conversation, again, with Catherine

"You're in Vegas" Came Warrick's voice from the opposite side of the locker room "Can't be that hard"

Catherine looked at him "Oh, really? Must be pretty easy for you then?"

He threw his jacket over his shoulder, closing his locker as he looked at her. "Like takin' candy from babes" He winked. "Come on, I'll take you to breakfast since my date stood me up"

Catherine combed her long blond hair before closing her own locker "I thought Sara was going to breakfast with you?"

"Exactly" Warrick replied "Hence being stood up. So that means I get the pleasure of dining with the other beautiful CSI"

Catherine laughed "Are you flirting?"

Returning her laugh, he winked at Grissom "Always"

Before heading out the door, Warrick turned to him "Gris, you want breakfast?"

He shook his head with a smile "And ruin this perfect date? No…thank you"

They left and he sighed heavily, his exhaustion falling over him. He'd worked a double and then some, finally conceding to head home when Ecklie complained that he couldn't afford a workman's comp claim if Grissom did something stupid when he was half asleep.

"Hey" He looked up to see Sofia leaning in the door with Greg in tow "We're going to head down to the Pitt and have some breakfast. You in?"

"I am not" He replied, wiping his eyes

"Well you have to eat" She said, her sultry accent playing through a small smile "You cannot work so many hours without fuel"

"Thank you, Sofia, but I would rather just have something at home and go to sleep"

Greg looked around the small room "You seen Sara around?"

He shook his head as he stood "She went home hours ago, as soon as she and Nick turned in their evidence"

"I think she's still pretty freaked out over that wackjob incident" He said "I mean, can you imagine near death in a looney bin?"

"And do you think it would make Sara feel any better to hear you speak that way about it?" He suddenly snapped "Do me a favor and never mention it again"

Greg was silent a moment. "Oh…" He said, "I guess you're right. Sometimes my mouth just moves before my brain." Then, perking back up "No problemo, Grissom. Sorry…didn't realize…"

"Go to breakfast" Grissom replied "But get a lot of sleep; it could be a long weekend"

Once they were gone, he looked again at the picture he held in his hands. It was silly, he supposed, being an adult male, an _older _adult male, clinging to a picture of memories.

Of _a _memory; a moment of time. A moment that to him changed his life, a moment that went too fast, far too fast.

He walked to his locker, opening the door and then sighed down at the portrait he held in his hands. Glancing around, he insured that there was no one present before taking the photo to attach it softly to the back of the door. Everyone told him that you put pictures of the most important things on the door of your locker and so, there on the top of his door within eyesight of anyone who opened it was the face of Sara Sidle, bright eyed, smiling happily with his arms wrapped about her shoulders from behind, his face pressed against hers and the happy smile matching the way he had felt at that time. That one time.

Sighing, he gave it one more look before walking out of the locker room and into the time he had to live now.

_They were in San Francisco, getting ready to head to the Bed and Breakfast her parents had once owned. Gil Grissom felt quite like a fish out of water here in this beautiful city with the even more beautiful student, ready to ride with him for fifty miles to the coast. He wondered if this constituted as his being an old man predator, pedophile hunting on young, gorgeous college girls. _

_Well, he'd told himself, she isn't _that_ young and 15 years really isn't a big difference…_

"_Convertible!" She smiled at him, her sunglasses hiding her eyes_

"_Yeah," He said almost apologetically "It's all they had, unless you'd rather a mini-van"_

_Her smile grew brighter. God she had a beautiful smile. "No, no…" She laughed as she put her bags in the back "this thing is perfect!"_

_She came around to his side of the car; perfectly care free and unaware of what she was doing to his inner and outer turmoil. She took his hands in hers and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, sending chills down his spin. "You are awesome"_

_He looked away, trying to find anything to concentrate on to keep his own happiness from becoming embarrassingly obvious. He went around and opened her door and she again stopped to kiss him, this time dangerously close to his mouth as her lips barely brushed the edge of his, before sitting in the passenger seat. He closed the door and made his way to the other side, looking over at her nervously as he buckled his seat belt._

_Before he knew it, she had put the top down, grinning over at him. "I always wanted one of these" She was telling him "My mom used to have one of those Volkswagen bug convertibles. It was a lot of fun until she sold it"_

_Sara was 25, he 40. She was an eager student, working full time as a level 1 CSI in San Francisco and taking a few elective courses after finishing up her Master's Degree. She was, in his opinion, one of the most intelligent and driven people he had ever known. And vibrant. The Sara Sidle he had met in San Francisco had energy and spontaneity and she had the power to make him spontaneous, too. _

_They began down the road, the wind in their hair as Sara leaned closer to him, running her fingers through his curls. He began relaxing; it seemed natural, far too natural. But he wasn't in Vegas, right? He could pretend, just for now, that he was a normal guy on a date with his normal girl and let it see where it went_

_After all What happens in San Fran stays in San Fran, right?_

Sighing in the locker room, he took the picture off the door. He wasn't in San Francisco now and Sara wasn't his lover. Looking down at the photo one more time, he put it back into his pocket and walked out of the room, turning off the light to the room and the memories of what was and what never would be

* * *

He walked into the lab the next evening, feeling somewhat relaxed after a 12 hour reprieve, and stopped to collect messages and mail from Judy. As he walked toward his office, he absently thumbed through the stack of papers; mostly useless junk mail and messages from Ecklie.

"Hey"

Her voice startled him and he looked up to find Sara standing before him, her cheeks flushed. "Sara" He said with a nod toward his office "I am just on my way in…"

"Oh," She flashed a nervous smile. "No, Gris, it's…" She stopped, spreading her hands from her side in an act of nervous frustration "…look, I just wanted to thank you, really, for being there the other day…I know it…" she stopped again, thinking "…I know it was an uncomfortable situation and I know that I may have acted somewhat rash…maybe a little unprofessionally…"

He held his hand up to stop her "Sara, you do not need to thank me" He said with another nod, trying hard to concentrate on breathing so as not to falter on his own words. "And you were in no way rash or unprofessional. I am just glad that you are alright…that the guard got the door open…if not…" now his voice did falter and he felt his own cheeks begin to blaze, his tongue forming a knot in his mouth.

They were both silent a moment, trying hard to look anywhere but at the other. There was a slight pause when their eyes met and he found himself reaching out to barely graze her shoulder with his hand "I am just glad that you are safe; that you weren't hurt"

She gave him a slight grin "Thank you" She said in a soft voice "I'm glad you were there"

He nodded with a slightly whispered "Yeah" as he looked down at the papers in his hand before glancing back up at her. "And, for the record, crazy people make me crazy too"

She smiled then, a full, slow spreading smile that lit up her face "Must be why you hang out here…"

He returned her smile, relieved to have the ice broken "Must…"


End file.
